A companion for death
by TheObsoleteSong
Summary: Not set an any particular season. Eric creates a new vampire, violence, adventure, and revenge.
1. Chapter 1

She knew she was going to die. It made sense, her punishment was finally over. She could leave this purgatory she had been caged in for the past twenty three years. Still aware of her body, she could no longer comprehend the pain.

"I can feel you lurking just outside" She whispered "I'm ready Death, come take me away."

With each moment her consciousness trickled farther and farther out. She could sense more then feel the cool breeze drifting over her, she was so light, almost a part of the air herself. It was an amazing relief. with a swell of joy and wonder she realized she could go with it. with one final exhale she was released.

Eric had heard her moans of pain for hours, but he wasn't going to stop. Cruelty was as comman amoung humans as it was vampires, and from what he had heard, what those man were doing to her was nothing new. Plus he wasn't hungry and she was spent anyway. Eric could hear her heart slowing from outside the door. He was almost to the end of the hallway when he heard her whisper to him.

Old memories of Godric drifted through his mind as he opened the door to her chamber. The scene that awaited him somehow struck as a work of beautiful art. A young women lay spread out on a table covered only by blood and the tip of a knife slowely starting to be pulled across her neck. Two other men stared hunched over, as if worshiping her with their eyes, having been cleansed with her body and blood. In an instant all three were dead


	2. Chapter 2

"I have arrived to carry you into the next life, child, I take you as a companion to death." The last words whispered into her ear before a cold darkness overtook her.

What is dying if not a pathway to a new life, a new way of being? She stared across the graveyard at Death, unable to pinpoint something to express.

Was she curious? She knew he had traveled with her for many hours before planting her old body in the ground.

"Call me Eric" Death said. There was something in his voice that was stone. Solid, strong, it towered over her consciousness. She could feel his age, his power. She inclined her head in agreement, but the movement surprised her. It was then she realized that was the first she had made since crawling from the earth. She hadn't once blinked, or taken in a breath.

She waited for the fear to creep into her soul, raw panic, pain but right now she couldn't even remember what they felt like.

"What should I call you?"

She opened her mouth to answer but she didn't know what to say. She wasn't who she used to be, that much she could feel.

Everything was different. The moon cast pale light over the grave stones, yet somehow the colors were so much richer then they had been before.

The deep purple petals of an iris sitting in a nearby grave caught her eye. Cut at the stem the flower, in death, still lived. That would be her.

_Eric_

"Iris" his new child replied, looking surprised. Standing he held out a hand to her.

"Run with me Iris" she slipped her fingers into his, with an apologetic sort of confidence that pulled a smile across his face. This should be interesting.

They ran for hours and hours, she wasn't very fast, but the way she laughed and threw her arms out in pure exhilaration was refreshing.

Iris didn't choose a man to drink from like Eric thought she would. She chose a young girl at a nearby college. He watched, intrigued as Iris bit the girl's arm open at the crook of her elbow and started to lap up the blood. Slow, and controlled, especially for a first feeding.

He felt yearning twinge through him at the sight, he wanted this creature, bad.

_Iris_

It was strange to be desired by death. Iris knew she loved him, as did his other child Pam, but the way he looked at her was different, more urgent.

"Share my bed tonight, Iris?" It sounded like a question, but she knew it was a command. Fear burned through her as she nodded. Unable to speak a reply.

Words were slow coming to her. Every time Iris went to say something it seemed to catch in the throat. Since she spoke her new name to death earlier Iris realized it was going to be a problem. There didn't seem to be an importance to anything she had to say.

She looked into his eyes and stepped forward. Deciding to take liberties she felt his face, fingers pressing down his temples, cheekbones, lips. Fangs extended, she touched the tip of those too.

She spread out on his bead, before morning light, feeling the sun bidding her to sleep before it's rays started to reach into the night sky. The sheets on his bed felt so good, so soft. Iris counted the individual threads, and let rest take her


End file.
